


Once Upon a Dream

by MiriamKenneath



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Ever Orgasm, Holding Hands, Kissing All Over, Loss of Virginity, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath
Summary: Aurora dreams sometimes.
Relationships: Aurora/Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 315
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BatchSan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/gifts).



Aurora dreams sometimes.

Dreams. Of _her_.

She does not mention this to the Aunties. They are too preoccupied with keeping house and squabbling amongst each other. Besides, Aurora grows older by the day. She will be sixteen years old soon! But this fact only seems to distress them. Do they want her to remain a child forever? Ah well, if wishes were fishes…

So, no, Aurora does not tell them about the dreams. The Aunties do not need – or, Aurora figures, _want_ – to hear about Fairy Godmother.

She’s known about Fairy Godmother her entire life. She remembers her face from the cradle. It is her earliest memory. During her waking hours, though, Aurora never sees her, This fact has never troubled her, for she has her friends of the forest with whom to share her daylight joys – the deer and the ravens and the flowers.

But at night. At night, when Aurora feels her body opening, feels the ache, reaches between her legs to touch, to make that ache both better and worse. At night, when she is most frustrated, unable to achieve that which might bring her peace, bring her release. At night, Fairy Godmother comes through her window to stand beside her bed. She is tall and dark, and her eyes blaze with verdant fire, watchful. On this night – why this night in particular? – she speaks:

‘I would teach you,’ says Fairy Godmother. ‘Men are cruel, and they would defile you. I… _I_ …would teach you to find your release. Such joys which passion may bring.’

‘Yes,’ says Aurora. ‘Yes.’ _Yes_ , with all of her heart.

Fairy Godmother does not speak further. She does not need to.

That first kiss is utterly magical. Fairy Godmother’s lips are soft and full, a tantalising, silken caress. Aurora moans, a delicious ache coursing through her body, her own lips parting in response, and Fairy Godmother presses her advantage, nipping and licking at the corners of Aurora’s mouth, biting and suckling on her lower lip. The tips of their tongues touch, weave together, dance.

But Fairy Godmother is not content merely with kissing Aurora’s lips. She begins kissing her everywhere – reverent kisses upon Aurora’s forehead, her brow, between her eyes, lashes fluttering like nervous butterflies, the sensitive shells of her ears, her neck, her throat, her collarbone. Her firm, apple breasts. Aurora whimpers as her nipples, first the left, then the right, pebble and peak, taken gently between white, sharp teeth –

And lower still. Fairy Godmother lays lines of wet, sucking kisses down her sternum, her heaving belly, tongue pausing to dip into the shallow divot of her navel, tracing the path of the urgent heat that is gathering down below. Aurora’s thighs part. Ardent kisses to the tangled thatch of golden hair between Aurora’s legs, grown so suddenly full these past years, seemingly overnight, nose buried to scent her, to memorise her musk, her fragrance.

She has changed these past years, she knows. Left her girlhood behind and flowered into womanhood. She has silently catalogued the changes, tender folds of skin like wings, the slickness, the lunar blood, the precious bud that brings warm bursts of pleasure when she flicks it with the tip of one finger. Even so, there is so much she does not understand, so much of herself that is unexplored, unknown country.

But she is not an unknown country to Fairy Godmother. Fairy Godmother eyes lift to meet Aurora’s, flashing with suppressed laughter as she leans down to press her mouth to the mound between Aurora’s legs, her beautiful, red mouth wrapped perfectly around that precious, precious bud. She licks. Suckles it.

And it’s intense. Too intense. Aurora cries out, flailing, her hands against Fairy Godmother’s shoulders to try to push her away. Fairy Godmother, however, does not relent, and she takes Aurora’s hands into her own, gripping tightly, fingers interlaced, as she persists in her intimate ministrations until the bud is swollen and exposed of its hood, lifted so high that it would be visible above the tangle of hair which guards it, were Fairy Godmother not…not…

‘Oh, Fairy Godmother, please…’ She doesn’t really know what she’s asking for.

Heat and tension, like a skein of wool wound so tight that it threatens to snap. Aurora squeezes her eyes shut and rocks her hips, back and forth, back and forth, wanting more, needing more –

‘Is this truly your first?’ Fairy Godmother asks Aurora, her mouth against Aurora’s flesh so that she feels the question more than she hears it.

‘I…I don’t…’ Aurora hesitates, shuddering, writhing, twisting futilely, caught in the trap of her nameless need. ‘I don’t understand…’

‘Hush. I understand, and I will make it so.’

Fairy Godmother continues, and again, she does not relent. She is remorseless, suckling that bud, laving it, nearly scraping it with her teeth, and Aurora is on fire, she is burning, and the pleasure is building, building… _peaking_ …and then Aurora is weightless, falling, falling, _flying_ , soaring on gust after gust after gust of hot, transporting pleasure. She wails, piercing, wordless, animal, pulses of fluid welling up from below, uncontrolled, pouring out in thick pulses and soaking the sheets beneath her.

She has never felt anything as marvellous as this before. The body makes its own enchantments, mysterious and magical. She has been given a priceless gift. And yet Aurora already knows, as Fairy Godmother embraces her, holds her close, so tender, as the languor of completion steals over her – it will not be the last time, either.

They lay together, limbs intertwined, and Aurora strokes Fairy Godmother’s sweeping fall of straight brown hair, her milk-white skin. There are scars upon her back, and Aurora strokes those as well, until Fairy Godmother shudders like she too is flying, soaring on strong, feathered wings of pleasure. Otherwise, though, Fairy Godmother will not let her reciprocate.

She would reciprocate if she could. She hopes that one fine day she will be allowed.

Aurora dreams sometimes. Of _her_. She is always gone when Aurora wakes, but sometimes, _sometimes_ , Aurora wishes she might never awaken.

* * *

_**-fin-** _


End file.
